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Frogs, a poem by Red Skelton, recited by Clem Kadiddlehopper

Frogs. Frogs. Frogs, they are everywhere.
Frogs. Frogs. Frogs croaking fill the air.
Louder. Louder. Louder is their blasting blare
and there’s no silence in the night.

Frogs. Frogs, croaks heard three miles away.
Five. six. seven beyond that they say.
Frogs. Frogs multiplying more each day
and there’s no silence in the night.

Frogs. Frogs don’t try to seek them out.
Frogs. Frogs. Frogs hiding all about.
Grab. Grab. Grab their throats and wring them out.
‘cause there’s no silence in the night.

Frogs. Frogs their good is only bad.
Flirting. Flirting. Flirting on their lily pad.
Mom. Mom. Mom says no, but you know dad.
and there’s no silence in the night.

Frogs. Frogs don’t you know the strain?
Frogs. Frogs. Please, please, please refrain
and listen [croak, croak] there they go again. Frogs. Frogs
and there’s no silence in the night.
[Gun shots]

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Posted by Tom Raymond, aka Raynbow on 10/01 at 05:30 AM
PoetryRed Skelton • (0) Comments - what's your opinion?• Permalink

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